It's Okay To Feel Bad
by Canned Tins
Summary: (Bad title is bad) Drakepad oneshot. Launchpad wakes up for an early morning snack and sees that Drake is a bit down in the dumps and wants to cheer him up. Also found on AO3.


Launchpad awoke to his stomach growling. Curse his insatiable appetite-burning all those calories crime-fighting. He leaned over to check his alarm clock.

2:15 AM.

He smiled, time for an after-midnight snack. He just hoped Drake wouldn't find him, or lest he wake up Gosalyn or even the Muddlefoots.

He felt like some leftover pizza would be good-pizza and milk. The perfect 2 AM snack. He hopped right out of the bed and didn't even bother putting on a robe; he was going to get some pizza, and it would go right into his mouth, right now.

The stairs creaked under Launchpad's weight as he went down, not that he minded. He headed across from the family room to the kitchen.

Fridge: spotted.

He looked around quickly to make sure no-one else was there, and then tip-toed towards the fridge-

"Hey, LP."

Launchpad froze in his tracks. He turned to see Drake in his morning robe, sitting at the table and looking so, very tired.

By now Launchpad had two options: Get the pizza and run, or talk to Drake.

He noticed how exhausted his companion looked, he wasn't even smiling, his arms spread out across him. Not even any coffee or anything to jolt him awake. So, that first option seemed out of the way, then.

"Up for another snack?"

"Wuh-I thought you were asleep!"

Drake chuckled humorlessly, "I couldn't. You know how hard it gets for me to sleep sometimes."

Launchpad frowned. Drake looked morose, eyes downcast and his feathery cheeks drooping.

He could even hear it in his voice. Drake had warned him about his rapid mood swings from time to time, but never had he seen it this bad.

"Are you...okay?"

Launchpad reached for some pizza anyway, then sat at the table, studying Drake some more.

"Sure. I'm not dying, am I?"

"...No," Launchpad munched on a frozen pepperoni-and-cheese pizza slice slowly.

Obviously Drake wasn't dying, but the dark circles under his eyes worried Launchpad.

"Sure hope Gos is asleep. I wouldn't want her to see me all mopey. I'm supposed to be the daring duck of mystery and all."

Now launchpad was even more worried, "You seem really out of it, DW. Are you sure you're okay?"

Drake sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes, "There isn't any crime or anything going on right now. And the silence gave me a moment to think..."

Drake then looked up at his friend with red-rimmed eyes, "You don't...think I'm too full of myself, do you? Be honest."

Launchpad swallowed his pizza and stared. He wasn't sure what to think-full of himself? Well, yes...but he was Drake's best friend, he couldn't...he _had_ to tell the truth, didn't he?

"How honest do you want me to be, DW? I can get pretty blunt!"

Drake smiled, "As honest as you can. I can take it."

Launchpad sucked in air through his teeth. At this point he thought of making an excuse such as doing a barnstormer exercise or some other thing, but his companion was looking so depressed, asking him a question he never thought he'd have to answer.

"How about we go outside?"

Drake blinked slowly, "Okay. But don't postpone your answer. I need to know."

The two walked out into the backyard, feeling the cold early morning breeze wash over them. Launchpad looked up at the clear night sky, and for a moment he wished to fly a plane among the stars.

"I'm waiting for the confession, Launchpad."

Launchpad looked down at his short friend, his worn-out features illuminated by the moonlight. It was so odd to see Drake look so...old. And he was barely 40. Just how bad had his mood been?

Launchpad thought back to Drake-or Darkwing's-personality. He loved Darkwing, he was always such a big fan of him and was beyond overjoyed to become his sidekick that fateful night. Darkwing could be...bold. He was brave and determined, he never gave up and continued to fight on for justice. And he loved Gosalyn very much.

Full of himself, though? Well...Drake had asked him to be honest.

Launchpad inhaled, and said, "Yeah, DW. I think so. But...I don't think it's too bad. After all, I always looked up to you."

Drake looked confused, "What do you mean, not too bad? Like I don't have these dramatic entrances and need for validation?"

_Validation?_ Now it was Launchpad's turn to be confused, "Are you-are you jealous of Gizmo again, is that it?"

"No!" Drake spat, "Forget him! You don't think I have an overblown ego to hide the fact that my actual self-esteem is so low?"

Silence followed. Launchpad could see that the shorter duck was getting riled up, his exhausted features turning bitter. He knew Drake had a dangerous temper and woe be he who triggered it.

"Look at me, Launchpad. As a hero I'm proud, I can feel good about myself. I say a lot of positive things about myself, half-truths. I tend to view myself as a great hero. But I don't get anything in return. My publicity is so bad that someone tried to throw a tomato at me once, while I was in costume," Drake paused to catch a breath, "It was a preschooler."

Launchpad wanted to look away from Drake, but he couldn't. The revelation coming from his friend was rather surprising. Of course, he'd seen the signs of Drake's supposed insecurity before but never thought much about it. Or at all.

"Maybe it is that bad?" Launchpad managed an awkward smile, hoping to sate Drake's emotions.

It didn't.

Drake looked down at the ground, "I mean, without the costume I'm just Drake Mallard. A single father living with a pilot and his kid. At this point the only friends I have who don't know my other identity are the Muddlefoots. And I can't stand them!"

He continued, "I stopped being Drake Mallard over a decade ago. It was that night at the high school prom that I became Darkwing Duck. I loved the attention I got. I could finally be _someone_. I could be worth _something_. Even back when I was just a shy kid and...someone helped inspire me to have confidence in myself, I wanted to be seen as more than just a pushover."

Launchpad could see Drake's shoulders tremble, whether from the cold or his own emotions. He wanted to give him a hug, but wasn't sure if it was what Drake wanted right now.

"For the longest time, I was just Darkwing Duck. Drake Mallard was but a passing memory. And then Gosalyn happened...I knew I had to adopt her. I...I adored her immediately. But I couldn't adopt her as Darkwing Duck."

At this moment Launchpad put his hands around Drake's shoulder. Drake didn't seem to object for once and rested his head against the pilot's chest.

"I think you're great, DW," Launchpad smiled, "But even I think you should be more honest with yourself!"

Drake only shot him an angry look, "Be more honest? If I was more honest I would be even less likeable than I already am. I feel like I need to keep some sort of status quo. I'm supposed to be Darkwing Duck. Daring, dauntless, dangerous."

Launchpad could see the sun rising from the horizon, the soft red glow bringing its tint over Drake's white feathers. Red looked good on him. But the shorter duck still looked deflated. Gosalyn could be waking up right now-she liked the early morning cartoons. Neither Launchpad nor Drake would want her to see her father look so sad.

"I think you are all of those! You're great, DW! And it shouldn't matter what others think...I think?"

"What do you mean?"

Launchpad shrugged, "Just have faith in yourself or something, that's what my dad told me."

Drake looked down, "My dad never really told me anything. He wasn't...really there for me," he sighed, "Mom was okay, but dad was too busy all the time and I never even understood why. And then he died when I was just entering high school."

"I'm sorry to hear about that. I-I'm not sure I can relate, but I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Maybe it explains why I act like this. Cause dad never paid attention to me."

More silence followed. Launchpad gave Drake a reassuring pat on the shoulder, not really sure what else he could say afterwards.

"Thanks. For talking to me, though. For once you actually had some tact," Drake smiled at him, "But if you tell anyone else about this, you're finished."

Launchpad nodded, he knew Drake (or Darkwing) had to keep his bold and brave persona and couldn't be revealed as having such a tender moment.

Suddenly, a loud crash was heard from the living room, followed by an even louder "OOPS!". The two rushed back into the house to see Gosalyn atop an overturned couch, handling a hockey stick, the puck having gone through the TV screen.

"Gosalyn!"

Launchpad chuckled, he felt a weight had been taken off him. Even Drake started to look more like his robust self, albeit upset at what his daughter had done. It would pass, though. He never grounded her for very long.

Launchpad returned to his pizza and watched his companion and daughter squabble over the broken TV.


End file.
